What Lies Ahead, We Know Not

When John Wesley Powell launched his stolid but, ultimately, fragile boats down the unknown of the Colorado River system in the late 1800′s. The title was a common refrain amongst his hardy adventurers. The same phrase could be muttered about the future of river rafting.

In the few decades I have been floating rivers, inflatable rafts have not changed substantially from the military-issue models that I rafted the Green and Colorado Rivers with Prescott College in 1974. The military gave you the option of black, black or black. Self-bailing models arrived in the late ’80s and our Project RAFT Orion team was sponsored by Maravia to the use of a hot-pink Williwaw I during the competitive events at Nantahala Outdoor Center.

Inflatable manufacturers have experimented with boat designs — diminishing bow and sterns rather than symmetrical or asymmetrical, building boats with internal bladders as AIRE does and making rafts out of polymers (the movie The Graduate warned us in the ’60s — “One word. Plastics.”) instead of just rubber but, in general, rafts have evolved little. Of course, that one great leap forward, self-bailing floors, was a very significant step and led to the navigability of all sorts of rivers once deemed ‘unraftable’.

One constant seems to be that river running craft are being designed shorter and shorter, whether it is rafts or kayaks. Kayaks, especially, have changed significantly, with the reduction of their keel length. Waves that were once impossible to surf are now within easy grasp of the most wet-behind-the-ears kayaker with the right size boat and with the will to give it a try.

About ten years ago, some were experimenting with an inflated transparent ball that you climbed inside, like a hamster with a wheel, and used it to travel down a river. I think it was called a ‘Bronco’ ball, or something of the sort, and, even though you could float outrageous whitewater, control of the ball was minimal and the possibility of winding up in a hydraulic in perpetuity was high. I never saw them on a Washington river, so I imagine they have lost their cachet as far as whitewater goes.

On the other hand, ‘Creature Craft’ are now all the rage. Interestingly, Creature Craft have many similarities to the homemade monstrosities that used to come out of the Soviet Union. Basically, they are modified and fortified rafts with roll bars, seats and seat belts. Seat belts would normally be anathema to river rafting but, since they are ‘breakaway’ and since you are navigating water that is relentlessly white and churning, being separated from the craft is not an option.

These hybrid river rafting crafts are showing up at put-ins throughout the western United States and they are being launched down rivers that a majority of river guides would not wish to have anything to do with except in their dreams or nightmares. I am certain ‘Creature Craft’, unlike the Bronco Ball (which I seem to recall was hawked on late night television for a while), will continue to capture bold boaters’ imaginations. And so they will become a part of the long anthology of river running.

Where I have my doubts is whether or not they have a commercially viable future. There is no need for them in the usual whitewater tackled by most commercial boaters and how many outfitters want to send fleets of strapped down customers on incessant Class V-VI waters?

However, like Powell’s fellow intrepid adventurers, when it comes to the future of river running, “what lies ahead, we know not.”

Project RAFT

Before the collapse of the Soviet Union and the crumbling of the Berlin Wall, a group of American boaters ventured into the wilds of Siberia and discovered Soviet citizens, using home-made rafts, launching themselves down torrents of whitewater that would give the boldest river rafters pause. Late in the ’80s, a reconstituted group of the same American rafting enthusiasts returned to the Soviet Union to compete in the whitewater competitions that Soviet clubs organized.

Out of these encounters emerged the idea for a non-profit dubbed Project RAFT which stood for Russians and Americans for Teamwork. The idea was to bring teams of Soviets together with teams of Americans for a semi-annual whitewater river rafting competition and environmental festival. It was fleshed out to include teams from any nation in the world capable of fielding a river rafting team of 6 to 7 individuals.

The first official Project RAFT gathering happened early in the spring of 1990 and was hosted by the Nantahala Outdoor Center. Hundreds of Project RAFT participants, their devoted followers, NOC staff and interested observers converged on Bryson City, NC, for a week long event intended to bring people together and inspire peace. Even though, by this time, the Soviet Union had splintered, there was still a need to show that there was no ill will between worldwide members of the boating community and that cooperation and face-to-face contact between our culture and theirs trumped all other means of diplomacy.

Project RAFT was also determined to set a standard for environmental stewardship and use the whitewater games as a platform to instill an awareness that free-flowing rivers were still an endangered ‘species’. At Nantahala, teams were encouraged to bring samples of endangered free-flowing rivers from their country for a ceremony of the intermingling of waters. The ceremony was an excellent way to call attention to rivers many of us had never known.

Project RAFT continued into the mid-90s. The next event was in Costa Rica, the last one was held in Turkey. The beauty of the concept was that it fostered a spirit of cooperation and camaraderie between teams from all over the world even as we were competing in the various competitions — slalom, grand slalom, river orienteering, river rescue, triathlons.

Evenings we shared common meals, bonfires and stories before retiring to our tents. At least once during every competition/festival the hundreds of participants would rendezvous at the put-in of a selected river and we would randomly clamber into rafts and spend the next couple of hours sharing the river, if unable to share meaningful communication due to language barriers.

In any event, 2009 marks — approximately — the twentieth anniversary of a concept that, sadly, is not still taking place. It was difficult and costly and a pain to put together, manage and facilitate, but, I suspect, the events continue to resonate with those who came to take part. I know I have dozens of fond memories and quite a few humorous tales about the three events put on by Project RAFT that I and several other Orion river guides attended. But those tales are for another blogging.

Ossimism

My business mantra for the past three plus decades has been — “Well. . . it could have been worse. . .” You might say it is ‘out of necessity’, but I don’t think so. It is just my natural inclination toward cynicism and pessimism. I prefer to think of myself as an ‘ossimist’.

This ‘ossimism’ has helped me navigate dozens of trials and tribulations.

For instance:

Example #1 “What was that? You dragged 50 brand new top-of-the-line Extrasport lifejackets 5 miles down the highway? Destroying most of them?”

Example #2 “Our wetsuits were stolen from our van on the Methow River and tossed on a lady’s lawn where? In the next county? One lawn or more?”

Example #3 “You put diesel in a gas engine, and the bus, which is full of the day’s river gear, is stranded on which Pass?”

Example #4 “‘Someone forgot to check the oil in the bus and the engine blew up where outside Gold Bar?”

Example #5 “You mean to tell me that the bus we are driving to Central America from the Pacific Northwest caught FIRE on the way home?”

Example #6 “The main lunch course is our famous tuna salad and we are missing which ingredient? Tuna? But we still have relish, sunflower seeds and apples?”

Example #7 “A raft is wrapped on a bridge pillar, the river is rising, we deflated a tube by shooting it with a .22 rifle, and it is STILL stuck on the pillar?”

Example #8 “You are telling me the bus is blocking what highway? The Mountain Loop Highway? What the hell?”

Example #9 “Can’t you see I just sat down to eat dinner? The bus is stuck in a ditch, and blocking what highway? The White Pass (Highway 12) Highway?”

Some people like to look at the glass as half full. I admire that tendency. But my preference is seeing it as half empty. I think either philosophy is just a means of coping with the situation at hand. Neither necessarily better than the other.

I am thrilled with incremental improvements. I never expect miracles. I am never letdown because I anticipate the possibility of negatives. This does not prevent me from flipping my wig, either overtly or covertly, when I get those calls at 3 a.m. or 3 p.m. But it tends to even my keel quickly.

I am comforted with the notion that we have elected a man as president whom I believe sees the negatives, is tinged with cynicism but still has the audacity to hope. How could Barack Obama not be tainted with cynicism having grown up black in America?

No drama Obama. I am certain that during his presidency he will appear to casual observers like the proverbial duck gliding back and forth on the placid pond. On the surface — cool, calm and collected. Beneath the surface? Duck-paddling like hell.

His temperament is upbeat and positive, yet pragmatic. He is going into this wide-eyed knowing that the possibilities of what might unfold will lie all across the continuum. But no matter what, he will be able to even his keel quickly and say, “Well, it could have been worse. . . “